Rising Sun
by Squinterian
Summary: After everything, Vincent Valentine looks back and moves forward.


_Rising Sun_

_Vincent's thoughts as the world begins anew._

* * *

The sun was only beginning to rise. A flock of geese was flying past the airship. They were far above, high in the sky. In the distance some songbirds were striking up the first tunes of the day. Early sunlight reflected on the Highwind's hull and dyed it with rare crimson.

The eyes that watched the slowly brightening landscape were of the same unusual colour. Their owner was standing by the railing, his red cape wrapped around his slender body. A gust of crisp morning wind brought goosebumps on his skin where the sleeve of his shirt left his arm bare. The problem, however, was present only in his right arm. The left one had disappeared under a thick metal cover long years ago. He didn't even miss it anymore. The claw that was now his left hand had become part of his personality.

His eyes continued to watch the rising sun, but he wasn't seeing the landscape spreading out in front of him. In his mind, memories of the events barely three days ago were playing over and over again.

He had fought, alongside with his newfound friends, to save the world from a monster. Not once, in the heat of the battle, had his determination wavered. And they had been victorious. All they had fought for was safe. And for the first time in thirty years he had felt at peace.

But it was quiet now. The monster was gone, Meteor was gone. The Lifestream had returned to its place within the planet. And Vincent Valentine, the long-tormented man, found himself stading by the railing of an airship, watching the sun beginning to shine over the land he had helped to preserve. Suddenly it wasn't so simple anymore.

He closed his eyes and breathed out heavily. As hard as he tried to fight the images they kept coming. His peace was slowly crubmling, turning into dust that was blown far away on the wings of the wind that chilled his skin.

So… like her.

Looked so much… like his mother.

Lucrecia…

_Am I on the verge of committing yet another sin, _he had asked himself. He had been sure of the answer as he had stepped into the battle. But the heat was gone, the certainty was gone, and now the peace was leaving him as well.

He had lied to her. He hadn't wanted her to know the truth of what her son had become. He had wanted to protect her. But he had lied. And now he was responsible for the death of her only child.

Another sin…

His life was full of mistakes he hadn't known how to avoid. Every time he tried to redeem himself of one sin he ended up committing another one. The burden on his soul was growing heavier and heavier. It was not a weigh. It was a stony boulder.

He looked over his shoulder, at the sleeping ship. No one else was awake yet. Cloud and Tifa were curled in their bed, sharing each others' warmth. Cid and Yuffie had finally given up on fighting over the cards and retreated into their bedrooms. Cait Sith had turned himself off. Red was probably sleeping by some stove, enjoying the warmth. He had heard Barret's snoring through the cabin door on his way to the deck.

All of them were innocent to the crime he had committed. They had defended their loved ones with honor. And he had failed. Vincent Valentine had failed again.

The cape was not warm enough to keep the cold away. Perhaps there was nothing in the world that was capable of it now. He shivered and bit his teeth together.

He had failed her. Again. And again. He had failed everyone. He hadn't even tried.

He almost laughed, thought it would have been a bitter laugh, the kind that carried no trace of warmth in it. He had held the keys, the keys that could have unlocked the secrets and quenched out the fire long before it broke out of control. He was the key witness. The key bearer. And now he bore the blame. It belonged to him just as much as it belonged to the monster. He had helped to create it. Like Hojo had.

Long, long and dark years in the quiet coffin, undisturbed by anything on the outside… He had lain there, half asleep and half awake, endlessly tormenting himself with the ghosts of his sins. He had been making up for what he had done. And all the while, in the world he didn't see or hear or even think of anymore, his chances to correct the past mistakes had quietly slipped out of reach. All he had been able to do when he finally rose from his slumber had been to put a violent end to it.

He took a hold of the railing with his hand. His fingers, left visible by the glove that covered his palm, were ghostly pale. The hills spread out as far as eye could see. Across the sea, on the other continent, was a quiet little cave, hidden behind a waterfall. She had been there. Perhaps he would see her again, if he waited patiently. Then he would tell her the truth, the whole truth and nothing but it. She deserved to know. She had a right to know. He didn't have the right to lie to her about her son. And just as little he had the right to say there was nothing that could have been done to prevent it. Much could have been done. But he hadn't. Vincent Valentine had slept in a coffin when he had been needed. And Vincent Valentine had remained silent when the misunderstandings still could have been cleared out.

The birds were singing out loud when he finally made up his mind. One, last look over the ship he had come to know as his home, and then he leapt over the railing. The sun was shining higher on the sky. It was starting to drive away the chillness, thought despite its attempts it could not penetrate the sorrowful cold that surrounded his heart. He landed softly to his feet on the grass, the long fall barely affecting him.

_Farewell, my friends…_

He began his journey across the plains, towards the city of Junon. There would be ships going to the other continent. It would not take all that long before he reached his destination.

On the peak of a tall hill he stopped and looked back. The Highwind was bathing in the gentle morning light. It looked like an enormous, silvery insect. Inside of it belly, people were stirring in their beds, perhaps turning around and telling themselves they would get up in another five minutes. In reality, it would take at least half an hour before any of them even seriously considered getting up. For a fleeting moment he wished he could have been there, could have sat in the breakfast table with them, talked about this and that, or just listened and enjoyed the feeling of not being alone, something he had once strongly disliked.

He shook his head. It was time to go. Time to face the actions he had not taken, the words he had never spoken. Time to face the world. And Lucrecia. He looked at the airship again, surprised by the sudden connection he felt to his companions. Then he smiled, a slight smile, barely visible one. It was all he could squeeze past the heaviness in his chest. He hoped his friends wouldn't be worried.

… _I will see you again._

When the morning turned into a day it no longer found him there. The tracks that led away from the vessel had faded with the dew. And the birds were singing as if there would never be another day.

* * *

fin


End file.
